


the pieces fall right into place

by LilyEllison



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22102966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyEllison/pseuds/LilyEllison
Summary: A collection of domestic/established relationship Karedevil ficlets.1. night falls: There was always that moment, right before sleep claimed her, when Karen would wonder what kind of night it was going to be.2. see you in the dark: Matt's second-favorite flavor is strawberries.3. yours to keep: Karen loves her new job.4. when you get me alone, it’s so simple: Who knew reading in bed was so distracting?5. not a bad girl: Karen's definitely for sure not trying to get Matt to stay home tonight.6. you did a number on me: This is entirely a discussion about Matt’s chest hair. Sorry not sorry.7. night falls redux: There was always that moment, right after he kissed her, when Matt would wonder what kind of night it would be. (Matt POV version of ficlet #1)8. but honestly, baby, who's counting?: Fran makes a noise complaint.9. all eyes on me, your illusionist: Karen saves the day.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Karen Page
Comments: 48
Kudos: 40





	1. night falls

There were plenty of nights when Karen didn’t go to bed at all until Matt was home — when she was working or extra worried or just overly caffeinated. But on the nights she did, there was always that moment, right before sleep claimed her, when she would wonder what kind of night it was going to be.

On good nights — when Matt was what counted as successful and didn’t get too banged up, just tired the devil out — she didn’t stir at all until he got between the sheets. On those nights, he could shower and do any patchwork himself, and then she was the little spoon, curled up tight in his arms as she fell back to sleep.

On bad nights, she always knew the minute he stepped on the stairs. She didn’t have his abilities, but somehow, even fast asleep, she knew. Maybe it was the heaviness of his tread or a sound he made, she wasn’t sure. But she would grab the first aid supplies and stumble into the living room before she was even fully awake to help with stitches or whatever he needed. Those nights they fell asleep lying next to each other, close but not touching, though sometimes Matt would sneak his hand into hers.

On the worst nights, Karen woke up to find one side of the bed cold and empty. Sometimes it was because Matt hadn’t come home yet, and then it was a solemn vigil in the dark. But sometimes, she’d find him in the living room, just standing there, stock-still. She never tried to go to him right away, never tried to touch him. She knew the devil was still up in him, that he would recoil from her, and they both hated that.

She’d wait until he swallowed enough times and blinked enough times and took enough breaths to be able to say, “You should go back to bed.”

That was always her opening. “Not without you,” she’d say. “I’m here because I want to be here. I’m not going away.”

He’d take that in for a while, chew it over, and then he’d always say, “Karen,” in that heartbreaking way he had. And she’d walk over, get close to him finally, and take his hand gently. One touch always did it.

Their hands would meet and then he’d be pulling her against him, clutching her close, and she’d make soothing noises into his hair. He never wanted to talk about it. He would, sometimes, the next day, but never at night, never right afterward.

So eventually, she would just lead him to bed. She’d lay down and open her arms and he would lay on top of her, his head on her chest, her arms holding him close, until he relaxed enough to sleep. Generally, they’d shift then, and she would be the big spoon, keeping the terrors at bay.


	2. see you in the dark…

“Are you going to sniff every single strawberry out here?”

It had been a very long Monday, and Karen was impatient, eager to get home to eat the bag of tacos she was carrying. But the first local strawberries of the season had hit the streets and Matt was like a man possessed.

“We don’t want them to rot before we can we eat them,” he answered, smiling. “Fresh strawberries are my favorite flavor. Other than you, of course.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me, Murdock. I’m grumpy and starving.” But when he turned to her, she let him kiss her anyway, slow and soft.

“Mmm,” he said, pulling away and running his tongue subtly over his lips. “That’s what I thought. No competition.”

She rolled her eyes. His hand came up to caress her cheek, his thumb tracing the corner of her lips.

“You scoff, Page, and yet this smile’s big enough that a blind man can see it. I must be doing something right.” He turned and picked up a basket of berries. “This one.”

He smiled smugly and she laughed as he paid for them.

She kissed him on every street corner on the walk home.


	3. yours to keep

Matt felt relieved as the door closed behind their guests and they started picking up the empty dishes from the table. Karen had wanted to have Ellison and his wife over for dinner for a long time, and they’d finally made time to do it.

He thought the night had been a success, but all the talk of the Bulletin had put a lump in his throat.

“Do you ever wish you’d gone back?” he asked, as Karen stood at the sink rinsing. It had been his fault that she’d lost her job in the first place, and being reminded of how much her old boss still admired her made him feel guilty about it.

“No, not really,” Karen answered, and he was happy to hear from her heartbeat that she wasn’t just saying that to placate him. “It’s not that I never miss it, but I have a better job now.”

“You think it’s better? Really?”

“Oh, no question. Co-owning a business and working as an investigator takes advantage of all my skills, not just some of them. It’s a great challenge. In the newsroom, there’s really no way to move up except to become an editor, and that was never going to work for me.” She turned off the water. “Plus, I’m too close to you to report objectively on Daredevil. That wasn’t so much of an issue when you weren’t, um, active, but I think it would have gotten really complicated. It was already weird enough to be reporting on Midland Circle for weeks, knowing what really happened and not revealing it.”

Her voice was laced through with pain and he felt even more guilty. God, what he’d put her through. “I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I hate the idea that I’m holding you back.”

“It was my choice, and I already told you I don’t regret it. Besides,” she said with a sudden smile in her voice, “Lily told me tonight that they’re looking for fresh perspectives at Proxy. She wants me to apply.”

“For a job?”

“It would be a monthly column. She says their current lineup is too heavy on older guys, so they want some new voices. It would be a national platform, which is pretty incredible, and I’d be doing reported opinion pieces instead of straight news.”

He grinned. “Karen, that sounds—“

“Absolutely perfect? I know.”

He couldn’t help himself. He swung her around in a circle and kissed her.

“Don’t celebrate yet. I haven’t actually gotten the job.”

“You’ll get it.”


	4. when you get me alone, it’s so simple

They were both propped up on the pillows in bed, Karen reading and Matt listening to the radio. Karen was engrossed by her book, something British and literary that had turned surprisingly steamy.

She felt Matt’s lips on her bare shoulder, trailing up to her neck and she shivered deliciously. His breath tickled her ear and she let out a pleased little hum. “You’re driving me crazy,” he said softly.

“I’m just reading,” she protested.

“Must be a good book.“ His teeth scraped lightly over her skin. "You smell incredible.” His hand came up to skim across her collarbone and her eyes fluttered closed. “And you’re breathing a little heavy.” He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. “It’s very distracting.”

“Well, now _I’m_ distracted,” she murmured, closing the paperback and tossing it aside.

“Oh no,” he said with wicked grin, his fingertips slipping just under the neckline of her tank top. “You’ll have to let me make it up to you.”


	5. not a bad girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one veers a little bit more toward the M rating.

Matt was almost ready to go out for the night. He heard Karen approaching as he finished tying his boots, and as soon as he was sitting upright in the chair again, his lap was full of her.

He smiled and put his arms around her, slightly surprised to discover she was quite scantily clad. One of his hands encountered bare thigh; the other, the silky nightie she’d bought a couple of months ago and first worn on Valentine’s Day. She kissed his cheek and he chuckled.

“If you didn’t want me to go out, you could have just said something.”

“What?” she said, though the shock in her voice was a little coy. “I’m not trying to stop you from going out.”

“Oh no?” he asked, sliding his hand up and down her leg.

“Not at all,” she returned smoothly. “If I was _trying_ , I’d be kissing you here.” And she pressed her lips below his ear, nuzzling and sucking a little at the skin of his neck until he was breathing harder.

“Mmm,” he rumbled.

She kissed his lips, cupping his jaw in her hand. “Not to mention,” she said, “if I was trying, I wouldn’t be sitting like this.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Definitely not,” she said, slipping off his lap. She repositioned herself so she was straddling his thighs. “It would be more like this.”

“Oh,” he breathed, his hands immediately coming to rest on her delectable silk-covered ass, encouraging her hips even closer to his.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until he was completely lost in her. There was nothing but the taste of her mouth and her hair tumbling around his face and her body pliant against his.

“And most importantly,” she said after he had lost all track of how much time had passed, “if I was trying, I wouldn’t be wearing _this_.”

He listened to her hands whispering down the silky fabric at her sides and then she was pulling the nightie up and over her head. He groaned, helpless to stop himself from running his hands over the velvety skin of her back. He wanted to get his mouth on her, but she was turning and reaching for something on the table.

And then she was pulling his mask over his head, down his face. She put both hands on his cheeks and kissed his lips chastely.

“Be careful out there,” she said, patting his shoulder.

Then she climbed off of him and headed for the bedroom without turning back.

Matt found himself a little dazed in her wake. He’d never be able to focus _now_. So he pulled off the mask and took off his boots and stood up.

He grabbed the silk she’d dropped from where it was cooling on the floor, and he pressed it to his nose as he followed her to bed.


	6. you did a number on me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other day I was feeling salty about how Matt doesn’t have chest hair even after weeks of unconsciousness and I ending up writing this. But don’t get me wrong, I like non-fuzzy Matt too. 😉

“Does it feel nicer this way?” Karen asked, running her hand down Matt’s chest. They were slightly sweaty and pleasantly exhausted, curled up together in silk sheets. “Bare, I mean?”

“Hmm, I don't know,” Matt said. “I've been keeping it this way for so long I don't remember.”

“Why did you start? If that's not too weird to ask.”

“No," he said. "I, uh, dated someone who had a very strong preference. I guess I thought most women did.”

“Not really. I mean, I don't," Karen said, tapping her fingertips against his skin. "I like you just the way you are. But if you let it grow in, I'd like that too.”

“Really? It's not insignificant. ‘Densely forested’ might be the expression.”

“Sounds snuggly.” Karen ran her hand over the hair on his forearm. "I like the way this feels," she said, and her hand continued up until it was skimming over his stubbled jaw. "And this." Her hand kept traveling, plunging into the hair above his ear. "And this."

She reached her mouth up to his and kissed him then, tasting salty and sweet and like the two of them mixed together.

"I feel pretty confident I'd like it," she said when she pulled away.

"I feel pretty confident I like _you_ ," Matt said, pulling her back in.


	7. night falls redux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who suggested I do a version of this from Matt’s POV!

There were plenty of nights when Karen wasn't home by the time that Matt went out — when she was on a stakeout, or just working late, or even spending time with her friends. But on the nights that she was, there was always that moment, right after he kissed her, when Matt would wonder what kind of night it would be, especially if she fell asleep before he returned.

On the best of those sleepy nights — the ones he hardly deserved but often got anyway — he'd slip between the sheets to find no barriers between his body and Karen's soft skin. Going to bed in the nude was Karen's signal to him — _I want to if you want to_. On those nights, it didn't matter how much he ached, how difficult the mission had been, he forgot it all as he breathed in her scent, as she started to stir, as he dove under the covers to wake her properly.

Nights with pajama-clad Karen were precious, too, of course. The ones where she sought him out without waking, when he pulled her into his arms, her back pressed warm against his chest. Even the nights when he put his weary head down to rest and found nothing but the silk-covered mattress, because she had taken his pillow, and was curled up tight around it. He never had the heart to try to get it back. Having her there was worth everything — the pillow-stealing, the occasional hogging of the covers, even the touch of seasickness he felt occasionally when she rolled around trying to get comfortable.

But there were bad nights sometimes as well — the ones when the nightmares started before he came home. If he was close enough, he'd hear her thumping heart, her tossing and turning, her half-cries of distress. He'd race home to her, to soothe her awake, to be the safe place she woke up to. She would cling to him then and he'd do his best to ease her back into sleep, his hand stroking her hair.

On the worst nights, the nightmares started and he didn’t know, or he couldn't get back. He couldn't go home. He hated himself on those nights — he hated that he couldn't always put her first, that there were other people who needed him more. It was cold comfort to know that she would make the same choice for him — she would never forgive him if he let someone be injured or killed so he could save her from phantom terrors. 

By the time he finally made it down the stairs, his nose would be filled with the acrid tang of her fear. He'd find her sitting up in bed, hugging a bottle, or worse, sitting in the shower, her arms wrapped around her knees, the cold water drubbing over her skin.

The first time it happened, he gutted himself for her, _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ gushing out like blood. But it didn't help — she only retreated farther away from him. So now he'd ease the bottle away, or turn off the faucet. He'd wrap her in a blanket, or a fluffy towel, and he'd just hold her — sitting up in bed, or right on the bathroom floor. He'd hold her until she came back to him, until she reached up and pulled the mask from his face. "You're here," she'd say.

"I'm here," he'd echo.

They didn't sleep on those nights. He would make her tea and something to eat in the kitchen and they'd talk until dawn — sometimes she wanted to tell him what she dreamed about, sometimes she wanted to be distracted.

The next day, unless there was something they absolutely couldn't miss, they'd find a way to sneak out in the afternoon, to go home and nap in the warmth of the sun. There was something about stripping out of their work clothes and dozing together in a tangle of limbs that was especially sublime — a blissful coda that took some of the sting out of their sleepless nights.


	8. but honestly, baby, who's counting?

[Prompt from soliloquy-of-nemo on Tumblr](https://lily-ellison.tumblr.com/post/617014425094897664/fran-complains-to-matts-landlord-cause-he-and): Fran complains to Matt's landlord cause he and Karen are too loud, after she tries to talk to Matt about the noise.

* * *

“I can’t believe it,” Matt said after he ended his call.

“What was that all about?” Karen asked, her forehead creasing

“There have been ninjas in here. FBI raids. Stick and I broke all the furniture fighting once. And this is what she complains about?”

“What?” Karen asked, more forcefully.

“Fran from down the hall made a noise complaint to the co-op board. About the other night,” Matt said, his eyebrows quirking.

“Oh.” Karen of course knew what he meant. The night of too many orgasms to count. The night that had left her throat scratchy and her voice hoarse the next day.

“There’s only one thing to do,” Matt said. He wet his lips as Karen hung on his words. “We’ll have to do it all over again and see if we can be quieter this time. Otherwise I might have to move.”

He finished with a smirk, then reached out and took her hand, tugging her toward the bedroom.

Karen went without complaint.

“Sorry, Fran,” she whispered.


	9. all eyes on me, your illusionist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Archiving a couple of little things from Tumblr.

“It’s beef ravioli night. Are you in?”

Karen looked up from her laptop, letting a rather adoring smile break out over her face. She couldn’t help it. Ever since Matt found out Sister Maggie had a major weakness for Nonna’s specialty, he had started bringing it to her whenever her voice betrayed the strain of a particularly trying week.

Karen tagged along sometimes, since it was always a casual visit, and not serious theological discussion time. Matt — and Maggie, too — seemed to like it when she did.

“Sure,” Karen said. “Give me five?”

“I’ll call ahead,” Matt said, and she rushed to finish up her case notes before it was time to go.

Foggy was already gone for the day, so they locked up together as they left. The shadows were long and the sidewalks were crowded, and Karen found herself pressing maybe a little closer to Matt than was strictly necessary.

Walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen with his hand tucked into her arm, or his fingers interlaced with hers, was so different from walking alone. She got lots of little smiles from passers-by, which would normally only happen with the occasional tourist. At first she thought maybe it was a pity thing, which made her angry, but then finally it dawned on her: It was because she was always wearing such a big smile herself.

Being with him like this was still too new for the joy of it all to have settled into the ordinary. It wasn’t so long ago yet that she’d been sipping the bitter dregs from her cup of loneliness — certain that finding something precious and then losing it was infinitely worse than never having it at all. She wasn’t so sure about that anymore, but anyway it was moot because what once was lost now was found.

And he was delivering ravioli to his mama in the mellow sunshine of a weekday evening.

They found Maggie at the park across the street from St. Agnes, helping to supervise a group of older kids who had joined in a pick-up basketball game with some neighborhood boys.

“You really shouldn’t have,” she said when she spotted the familiar bag, trying to sound stern. “Sister Mary Bertha will be on about the drunkards and the gluttonous eaters of meat again.”

“Sister Mary Bertha is a spiteful old cat,” Matt mumbled.

“Matthew!” Maggie said sharply, her eyes darting toward the basketball court as if some of the kids might have heard him over the din of the game. But there was a bit of humor around her mouth.

“Sorry,” Matt said, sounding not quite sincere.

Maggie shook her head. “Hello, Karen,” she said. “Has he been giving _you_ this much trouble lately?”

“You have to ask?” Karen said happily.

“How foolish of—”

But Maggie’s response was lost in a sudden uproar from the game. “Head’s up!” someone cried. Karen started to turn, but it was already too late. Matt’s hands shot up and stopped a basketball in midair, just inches from Karen’s head.

They both froze.

“Whoa!" 

"Did you see that?" 

"Ain’t he blind?”

_Shit._

The kids were starting to cluster around. “Man, how’d you do that?”

Matt was still holding the ball. “Uh, just lucky, I guess.”

Seeing all the confused looks, Karen decided to take action. “You think that’s something? Watch this.”

In a flash, she grabbed the ball out of Matt’s hands, spun around and dribbled onto the court as smoothly as she could in a skirt and less-than-supportive flats. She lined up a half-court shot.

“No way,” yelled one of the loudest kids. “You’re not gonna make it!”

Now she had all eyes on her. They all turned around and moved closer, with big smiles that said they were completely underestimating her. Karen bit her lip. She took a few steps back, bouncing the ball as she looked at the basket and played out the sequence in her mind.

_Here we go._

In a smooth, continuous motion, she bounded forward, jumped and shot. She knew right away that it was decent — she had always liked long shots, and she hadn’t completely lost her touch. But with odds this long, it needed to be way better than decent.

It seemed like the whole city was holding its breath as the ball arced high through the air. She certainly had everyone’s attention. All she could do now was hope.

_Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—_

Swish.

_YES._

The kids erupted in cheers and surrounded her. Karen accepted high-fives until her hands hurt. Then someone picked up the ball and the game was back on, though Maggie announced that her kids had only five more minutes before they had to go in.

“Nice save,” Matt murmured when Karen reached him on the sidelines. “Sounds like you made the shot?”

“You better believe it.” She grinned saucily. “Someone had to get you out of trouble.”

“My hero,” he said, cupping her cheek.

“Just returning the favor,” she said, and she kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I headcanon that Maggie brought Matt her own favorite dish in 3x01.


End file.
